


Under Pressure

by hjbaltimore



Series: The Lernaean Problem [5]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, post-age of ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjbaltimore/pseuds/hjbaltimore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was no right way to answer it, but he couldn’t not answer it either. He avoided Steve to recover on his own, but after Steve nearly fucking died a few months earlier, his goddamn shield snapping in two (that Stark had just spent $3 million tracking down after being unceremoniously dumped in the Potomac) fighting fucking robots, Bucky let himself be found. He would endure the looks of pity, the coddling, the headshaking, the talking down to as if he were a child, if it meant he could stick around Steve. He deserved the indignity for being so selfish. Let Steve think he was something worth saving. He could act the part. So he answered every question, whether he wanted to or not. Steve was owed that much, at least. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bucky is back with Steve, but is still reeling with guilt and trauma from his captivity with Hydra. Sometimes you just need someone to tell  you aren't alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> This is the epilogue to [You Can Escape From it Whenever You Choose](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3127127/chapters/6777512), but is more than capable of standing on it's own.

_The process of cryopreservation freezing was an extremely difficult process rendered useful and survivable thanks to the relentless scientific research of Hydra. The regenerative properties of Dr. Zola’s enhancement serum 0-8-3b, soft tissues are able to protect vital organs during flash freezing whereas in the average human ice crystals-_  
  
He mumbled it under his breath in a monotone. Sometimes the technicians would get angry if he repeated it too loudly, snapping at him to stop because it annoyed them. Going in and out of the chamber last only a minute from his perspective, but the rest of it... Taking the drugs to preserve himself, thawing bit by bit as ice circulated through his blood, tongue flopping uselessly, being blind and unable to move as more drugs were pumped in…  
  
The recording had been synced to photos and footage of himself. He’d seen it enough to rehash every word from memory and it reminded him that despite the pain, he would be okay. It was  _safe_. It was  _okay_ , the film would reassure him. The pain was worth it. It was. It had to be.  
  
 _-cannot be used to preserve non-enhanced bodies, as the preservative chemicals are too toxic to metabolize without the serum to encourage rapid growth and development of new, healthy cells. In addition, the process has been deemed “too painful” for the commercial market, that to be appealing to a consumer base the process must be more streamlined for comfort. The comfort level of the Red Room’s super soldier program is unimportant and in fact, is more useful when painful to remind the subjects that they are-_  
  
“Bucky?”  
  
His whole body went rigid at the feather touch on his right shoulder, too afraid to look. Steve, bless his soul, plopped right down next to him on floor next to him. He took one last glance at Bucky but didn’t say anything more. Every minute or so though, his bulk would just “happen” to sway just enough to gently bump shoulders with him.  
  
Eventually, he let out a deep breath. It was unspoken signal that he was calm enough to answer whatever ridiculous question Steve had.  
  
“What were you saying just then?”  
  
There was no right way to answer it, but he couldn’t  _not_  answer it either. He avoided Steve to recover on his own, but after Steve nearly fucking died a few months earlier, his goddamn shield snapping in two (that Stark had just spent $3 million tracking down after being unceremoniously dumped in the Potomac) fighting fucking robots, Bucky let himself be found. He would endure the looks of pity, the coddling, the headshaking, the talking down to as if he were a child, if it meant he could stick around Steve. He deserved the indignity for being so selfish. Let Steve think he was something worth saving. He could act the part. So he answered every question, whether he wanted to or not. Steve was owed that much, at least.   
  
Bucky shrugged. “Something I would repeat to myself. Calm my nerves before going in the cryotank. ‘s stupid.”  
  
“It’s not stupid,” Steve said a little too quickly. He was always too quick to defend him. God, Bucky really wished he’d just punch him. Call him a traitor and spit in his eye. Hate- fuck him into the floorboards for shooting the human equivalent of fish in a barrel just to avoid a small beating. Force him to sleep outside in the dirt for swearing allegiance to Hydra in exchange for a threadbare mattress.  
  
Instead, all he ever did was follow Bucky around like huge golden retriever, waiting on him hand and foot like he was a goddamn  _person_. God, didn’t he _know?_  
  
“Can I ask why though?” Steve asked.  
  
Godammit. He felt his eyes welling up. The first few times he started crying out of nowhere, Steve freaked out. Bucky had to explain he just did that sometimes. Most of the time it’s because a fleeting memory knocked some emotions loose, other times he was convinced Hydra messed with his tear ducts because all the sudden hot wet streaks would spill down his face for no apparent reason at all. Even when he was happy. Who knows. Now, Steve just tried his best not to react unless Bucky said something.  
  
“Just stressed I guess,” he replied, wiping his face dry.  
  
Steve looked dead on his feet. He always did. But despite appearances, Natasha (he could swear she was called something else?) said Steve was the happiest she’d ever seen him, and it was at least 80% because of his presence. Bucky wasn’t sure whether that made him feel relieved or not.  
  
Bucky sighed again. He felt like at least half of his exhales ended up as a sigh. He leaned his back against the kitchen island, more or less mirroring Steve now, and turned his head to face the window.   
  
“Steve, I gotta tell you something,” he said hoarsely, just above a whisper. In his peripheral, he could see Steve perk up and turn towards him. “And-- just don’t say anything until I get it all out, okay? If I stop, I’ll never start back up.”  
  
“Anything, Bucky.”  
  
He turned more, so now Steve was completely out of eyesight. 

  
“Look, I uh-- I don’t know how much you know about… everything. But I can’t just let you… we can’t keep going on like this.”  
  
He could practically hear Steve’s posture stiffen. God, the dope will probably even be nice about kicking him out. Or maybe he’ll make it easier on both of them and beat him to a pulp before  _literally_  kicking him out the door. He won’t fight back, unless it’ll make it easier for Steve to hate him. But he honestly doesn’t think he could ever lay a hand on him again.  
  
“I gave in, you know. They didn’t have the tech to wipe me until long after I’d been taken in. And they only used it on me after I let them. I got on the fucking ground and kissed boots while pledging my loyalty to Hydra. To the KGB. To anyone who could hear me if they would just make the pain go away.   
  
“And then,” he continued, throat constricting under the threat of bursting into a sob, “I could’ve escaped. God, I had so many chances Steve. And every time I decided it wasn’t worth the effort. I chose to stay there and let them use me, and for what? The first time they broke me, they told me you died and I lost it Steve. There wasn’t any loyalty left in me. But then they coaxed it out of me a second time, and I did it just to get a blanket. I killed innocent people and screamed ‘hail Hydra’ for useless comforts.”  
  
“Bucky, I-”  
  
“God, don’t you get it Steve? I stopped being worth anything a long time ago. So just,” the words got caught in his throat, “fuck off, alright? You’re wasting your time!”  
  
They were both quiet for the longest time. Probably about five minutes. Five minutes of horrified silence on Steve’s part, and violent but muffled sobbing turning to ugly hiccups while Bucky held the flesh hand over his mouth. Finally he got up.  
  
“I’m leaving. Go find someone else to pit-”  
  
Steve gripped his left hand with a look of absolute fury, red puffy eyes on a face that looked ready to explode.  
  
 _Here we go,_  Bucky thought mercilessly. He winced and braced himself for a hit.  
  
Instead, it felt like he was being squeezed through a vice. Bucky opened his eyes to find Steve leaking through the thin cotton that hung just a little too loose over Bucky’s shoulder, arms wrapped around him a bear hug that didn’t feel ready to let go anytime soon.  
  
“God Bucky,” he said finally. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”  
  
“Why’re you hugging me?” he asked in genuine surprise.  
  
“Because,” Steve sniffed, “None of that was your fault. Never was.”  
  
He lifted his head from Bucky’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes with the saddest smile it was physically able to muster.  
  
“Did you not listen-”  
  
“I listened. I heard all of it. Jesus Buck, they kidnapped and tortured you. They mutilated your body and abused you and enslaved you.”  
  
Bucky set his jaw. “Even Zola was amazed at how fast I broke. Don’t do this to me Steve, it’s mean.”  
  
He gripped Bucky a little tighter, but not enough to hurt. “None of this was your fault, you understand me? You held out way longer than most people could. And if you’re thinking I wouldn’t have, you’re wrong. Hell, I would have gone down faster than you. I  _did_  go down faster than you. Two days later I was nose diving a plane into the arctic. I couldn’t make it even a week before Hydra broke me.”  
  
It was a punch to the gut, and Bucky felt weak at the knees.  
  
“I couldn’t stand the thought of being happy without you. I couldn’t do it. It’s why I let you try and beat me to death on that damn helicarrier. They took you from me twice, and this time I didn’t even have Peggy to help. They took everything from me.”  
  
Next thing he knew, Steve forced their faces together, in probably the most awkward kiss he could ever remember having (which wasn’t saying much). It was weird and slick with tears, but Bucky leaned into it, unconsciously raising his hands to Steve’s waist before he just as suddenly broke it off.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry.”  
  
Bucky’s heart nearly bulged out of his chest. “Do yo-?”  
  
“Yes,” Steve answered too quickly again, like he’d been waiting to blurt it out for days but was suddenly aware of just how bad the timing was. It took only seconds for the expression to fade back to absolute fury. Steve raised an accusatory finger to no one in particular.  
  
“And another thing! I mean Jesus, Buck, it doesn’t even matter how fast or slow they brainwashed and broke you! How could you possibly feel responsible for that, you were a prisoner for godsake! Anything else is totally irrelevant!”  
  
Bucky yanked Steve down a couple inches and placed a softer, less clumsy kiss on his lips. He only allowed his eyes to flutter closed for a second. Steve cut off his rant abruptly and--  _Jesus, is he blushing?_  
  
“Look, Steve. I’m not going to pretend like that tirade of your fixed anything but, thank you. I mean it.” He put one hand on his hip and used the other to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I would think about you everyday, Steve. They knew it too. They were always using it against me. It got to the point where I couldn’t even remember your face. I don’t think it took too long after that for me to totally submit.”  
  
Steve kissed him again. Hungrier, needier. He didn’t let go, and he began stroking through Bucky’s hair.  
  
“They said the first word out of my mouth was your name.”  
  
Bucky let his head fall to Steve’s chest with a weak smile.  
  
“What was the second one?”  
  
“Peggy.”  
  
“You’re a sap, Rogers.”  
  
Steve smiled too. “Coulson told me that. I don’t remember it though. He might have lying.”  
  
Bucky nuzzled Steve’s neck and closed his eyes. “God bless saint Coulson. May he rest in peace.”  
  
“You’d have liked him Buck. He had trading cards with our pictures on ‘em.”  
  
“Uhuh.  _Me_  me, or ‘teenage army brat comic book’ me?”  
  
“Of all the details to remember…”  
  
Bucky punched him lightly on the side.  
  
“I mean it Bucky. You did what you had to. No one should ever give you grief for that. Not even yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> hahahah guess what song I've been listening to on loop for the past hour wooooo
> 
> edit: um, to anyone who has actually read the other stuff in my series here, just *sweats nervously* pretend Bucky knows Coulson is alive but Steve doesn't know yet??
> 
> *intense sweating*


End file.
